Skyrim: Through Many Eyes
by Burned Cookie
Summary: This will be a series of somewhat connected oneshots, showing the actions of the player character throught the eyes of onlookers and participants. This will be in part to show how the dragonborn is truly like the legendary heroes of epic tales. Think beowulf with dragons. That is the power the dragonborn truly posseses, hidden behind the game mechanics. The rest is just poking fun.
1. Chapter 1

Suicidal

Ralof ran up the stairs of the tower. What a mess. One moment he was going to the chopping block and the next there is a creature of legend destroying the entirety of Helgen. He should probably unbind that prisoner soo-

The dragons head burst through the wall at the top of the stairs. Fuck. Stumbling back and looking for some way to escape, he almost collided with the prisoner. Once the dragon was gone, the hole it left allowed him and the bound man of ice to see Helgen in all its blazing glory. He called him an iceman with reason, for despite all the shock and stress of the last few minutes he had yet to lose his calm, or even show more emotion than simple anger and annoyance. The man had even seemed calm and calculated on the chopping block, eye to eye with a fucking DRAGON for divine's sake!

Pulling his mind back to the task at hand, Ralof looked for possible escape routes. There were none. The dragons attack had collapsed the stairs. Coming to think of it, why had they run up the stairs in the first place? To get closer to the dragon? For a moment he considered jumping down to the inn, but a fall from such a height would surely break even the strongest man's legs, not to mention the fact that the inn itself was near collapsing and engulfed in flames. In a moment of panic fuelled hysteria, he tried to turn his silly idea into a joke. For that's all that such a suicidal plan could ever be.

"See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going!"

But instead of a laugh, smirk or blank stare he got a nod of acknowledgement. Before he could react any further, the insane man, hands useless and still bound, with no way to catch himself on impact, jumped. He fell an entire story, past debris and flames, and hit the inn floor. Running. He hit the inn floor running. The only sign that he had not just stepped down a mere step a single grunt of exertion. Snapping himself out of his shock, Ralof yelled:

"Go! We´ll follow when we can!"

He didn´t want the man to think they had simply abandoned him. Not that he seemed to need much help. At this point, he had already taking a single bound down the inns stairs and run out of the door. Where he came face to face with the dragon again. From his vantage point he could see the dragon inhale. He screamed alarm, but was drowned out by the chaos. The man turned 90 degrees, trying to flee. No use. He was hit by the full burst as the dragon followed his path. Ralof stood and stared in horror. But instead of the smouldering corpse, or worse, the screaming fumbling roasting figure he had expected to emerge, the fearless man broke from the jet of flames still running at full tilt, obviously burned and hurt, but none at all hindered. Where all the others that where hit were incapacitated, dead and doomed, he seemed to treat the inferno of one of the hottest fires known to Nirn as a normal man would treat a torch. It hurt and should be avoided, but touching it is not an instant doom.

It was then Ralof knew. This was no mere man. This was a hero of legends. One who could and would go toe to toe with some of the greatest horrors and still emerge with nothing but a few scars, trophies and new stories to be told. He knew that if any man could make it out alive in this nightmare, it would be this one.

And Ralof´s own best bet was at his side.

Now to just find him again.

o0o0o0o

Not so far away, separated by only a small fall and years of estrangement, stood and stared an old friend, donned in imperial garb. He had seen the same.

Damn if that man was a prisoner to be put to death.

It was the one he just KNEW would make it out.

He set off through the flames , explosions and falling rocks.

o0o0o0o

Authors Note

o0o0o0o

No, I don't believe that two people found a single running man in a burning village simultaneously by accident.


	2. Chapter 2

Guardian Stone

He was just passing by. His last stop had been at Riverwood. Soon he´d be in Falkreath. But first, as it was custom, he would pay tribute to the Guardian Stones. It was supposed to bring good luck, and in times like these, there is nothing more scarce.

As he approached, he saw a man in armour, standing perfectly still. no shifting, no movement. Just standing there. Silently he crept closer. There had been tales of some lunatics camping at standing stones, but this one would be the first to make the guardian stones his home. Still, better safe than sorry. As he drew nearer, he realised in horror, that the strange man's eyes were as still as can be as well. Not the subtle shifts expected of one thinking. His expression was also perfectly still. Set into perfect neutrality, as though they had been dropped and forgotten. No change. No movement. Only breathing. After staring mesmerised for a few minutes, the onlooker noticed a change. Or rather, he fell over in shock due to the sudden movement, although his tales of this strange encounter told later on never seemed to include this little fact. The man strode towards the warrior stone. The strange thing was, he hadn´t shifted, he hadn´t shown any indication of any kind of mental presence at all. He had simply broken into full stride without the slightest bit of hesitation. Now he seemed like a normal if determined man yet again, moving and acting like one should. He stood before the stone hand pressed a single hand to the carving. He was paying tribute to the guardian stone of warriors, as had many before him. The same way the traveller in the bushes would have. What was unusual about this was the fact that the standing stone began to _glow_. The carving of the constellation of the warrior shone a bright white light while a thick whiteish blue beam erupted from the top and raced into the sky. Only after the stranger removed his hand and went on his way, as though beams of lights shot out of rocks often enough for it to be in no sense startling, began the light to fade.

Once everything looked as before, the traveller left the bushes and, slowly and with great hesitation, touched the stone as well. Nothing happened. Confused and awed, he went on to Falkreath to tell the story of the man who got the blessing of the warrior.

oOoOo

Authors Note:

oOoOo

Isn´t it slightly strange how none of your followers comment on the fact that you just made a stone glow.


	3. Chapter 3

Endurance and Skill

It was truly amazing. The citizens of Whiterun watched in awe as the Dragonborn stood at the forge day in and day out. No rest. No sleep. Not even breaks for food or water. Just smithing. The traders who walked past finally understood what the ridiculous amount of ore and ingots the Dragonborn had been stoking up on had been for. After all, all these daggers had to be enough iron and steel to supply a small army

After the first day the people were amazed.

On the second they stared approaching the forge with offers of drink and food, only to be waved of.

At dawn of the third day a brave person approached their Thane and asked if there was anything that could be done for him. The determined smith didn´t even show the slightest bit of reaction.

By dusk most people had taken to ignoring the entire situation. As strange and illogical as it was, it couldn´t hold their attention forever.

On the morning of the fourth day, the people gathered quickly around the now finished Dragonborn, surrounded by piles and piles of daggers. He was now clad in a black and red armour that looked like it was forged from the night itself and could easily withstand a giants blow. When the people asked," Pray tell, great Hero, where did you learn to forge such strong and strange heavy armour?", he turned to them in deepest confusion, "Did you not see me train my smithing abilities? I was here for days, no way you could have missed me, or all these daggers that I made. It is only natural that I would learn how to craft great wonders!".

oOoOo

Authors Note:

oOoOo

A classic case of game mechanic turned superpower.


	4. Chapter 4

Paralyzed

"This is Netch Jelly. If consumed raw, it will cause all your muscles to seize up for a short time, rendering you defenceless. It has many useful applications-". He stopped in mid-sentence as the Dovakin snatched the bowl and jumped of the balcony, plummeting into the depths. As the aged alchemist reached leaned over the small stone railing, he thought he saw the falling lunatic gulp down the entire bowl. Not just the content, he swallowed the entire oaken bowl. Then he hit the ground. And BOUNCED.

…ooo…

"No I know not what has gone wrong with him. I was just testing the implications of some alchemic fact he had told me, and when I returned he was simply babbling of madness and whimsical nature. No, I didn´t do anything. No, I did not try the experiment on him. No, I did not hit him over the head repeatedly. Why would you even think that? Either way, get him back into shape, he still owes me the rest of my lesson."

o0o0o0o

Authors Note

o0o0o0o

I always wondered what the masters of their trades thought of the dragonborns tricks.


	5. Chapter 5

Time

A new student had arrived. Unusually talented. He showed great promise, so far even that they had decided to hand wave the normal fees for equipment expenses and such. She had rather meant it as a joke, to turn away the unrecommended, untrained novice pestering the great college without even the slightest warning. If he wanted in, he should have made an appointment or some such. But, it was easier to just ask some impossible task, for one foolish enough to come all the way without preparation would never be a great mage. Better to turn him of the road now. She had asked him to summon a Flame Atronach. Had even offered to sell him the spell. But he had just shaken his head and flicked his wrist. No preparation. No long focusing. No material components or runes. Just pure summoning, like one might who had cast that spell a hundred times before. That had, of course, secured his place at the college. Truly, it was most impressive.

ooo

Everybody was talking about it. The newcomer had burned his way through draugrs as though they were made from parchment. Found a secret at a site that an expert had been searching for weeks, a secret so incredible that all the masters were simply astounded. Did that man know no limit?

ooo

Apparently not. He had uncovered and elder scroll sought after for centuries. FOR CENTURIES! And had it been a hard and epic quest? His greatest live achievement? Something he would tell his grandchildren many years later? NO! When he had been told that the college held no elder scroll, he had seemed slightly annoyed and sauntered of, like one might when one found that the cheese was out and more needed to be bought. Upon his return he spoke of the deadliest of dwemer ruins as though they had merely been a slight obstacle, a bump in the road! It was incredible.

ooo

He was the Archmage. There was no question. Sure, he may seem like the worst leader imaginary, and he seldom spend any time in the college at all, but one did not just witness all that he had done and not heap the highest of positions on him. Gods forbid he might get slightly miffed about some perceived ungratefulness and do something he might deem appropriate, like calling a flood or a monsoon of blood. After all, this was a strange man to whom the shards of creation where part of shopping lists and Godly Artefacts seemed like a boring plot twist. He had literally said those precise words when they had recognised the eye. Of course, his only reaction to the announcement was to blink slowly, grab everything within reach, declare the usage and filling of soul gems forboden and summon a horse made of bones. On wich he subsequently rode of the bridge into the sea.

Nobody was truly surprised at this point.

o0o0o0o

Authors Note

o0o0o0o

I always wondered what the mages of the college where thinking when they made you their leader after never giving a damn and hanging around them for, like, five minutes.

And I wish I could have done the soul gem part.


	6. Chapter 6

A broken Flight

I have seen much over my time. Working these fields is no easy task. Random wolves tearing into anyone who so much as closes his eyes. Bandits that far outnumber the actual population, robbing everything in sight. Random magic users that fling elemental magic and necromancy around for no reason. Skyrim has seen better times and will see them again, but right now, the war and chaos have torn into all our lives, breaking families and plunging the country into borderline anarchy. Well, I guess it is good for business at least. After all, there are not many who can grow food in such conditions, it takes a special kind of tough to brave the madness of these days and come out with not just enough for oneself, but enough spare to trade. Wearily I keep my eye out for anything off or out of place. One might never know when the next calamity strikes.

 _What was that roaring sound!?_

Where? Who?

I see noting…

A shadow… of course, the sky! Through a long practiced roll, more reflex than cognition, I evade a blast of searing flame. A quick glance up and

Is

Is that

What

How in the

Wha...

oOoOo

As the farmhand fainted, a man standing on a dragon flew past.

That alone wouldn't usually warrant a fainting spell for a habitant of the chaotic lands of Tamriel, where dragons fighting giants was not even news worthy of gossip.

However, a man jumping off a sideways levitating horse, landing on a dragon and then just STANDING there as if not balancing on the back of a magical flying lizard might just do the trick.

o0o0o0o

Authors Note

o0o0o0o

I tried that one very weird night. I had it set up right and everything, loading over and over trying to hit that damn dragon. In the end I had to give up, no matter how epic that would have been.

Also sorry for the update/replace thingy, I wasn't really happy with my first result.


	7. Chapter 7

Powering On

This was madness. He had known that his friend was a Legend, deserving of capitalisation, fighting dragons, slaying giants, forcing even the weather under his will. But this…

It had been 5 days now. FIVE DAYS! No pause, no rest, not even a single weary stumble. They had hiked across mountains, fought countless battles, delved into the deepest dungeons and his friend hadn´t even stopped for breath. This was madness. When he collapsed, the Dragonborn even carried him, allowing him the rest he needed desperately. But did that bother the madman? No! With strides as big as before, that mainiac continued on. And carried twice his own body weight in loot of course.

He would have dropped out of his service if his split of the loot wasn´t ridiculously large. And the adventures not so epic. After all, what adventurer in their right mind says no to epic quests and even more epic loot?

Still, he had always thought the old stories left out all the little details of day to day life for convenience, not because true heroes simply didn´t need them…

oOoOo

Three days later, the Dovakin called a night of rest on a their way back.

o0o0o0o

Authors Note

o0o0o0o

Have you ever noticed how the travel via fast travel takes waaaaay longer than it does if you walk it, at least in game? I like to think that on those trips, without a crazy player pushing him onwards, the character actually bothers with sleep and rest.

If this chapter seems in any way… off, please inform me, I'm kind of sleep deprived right now.


	8. Chapter 8

You can run but you can´t hide.

Here´s your letter.

You may have moved, but don´t you worry, the courier service always finds a way.

Here´s your letter.

You may be walking down a road a hundred miles from home, but the courier service has masters of route prediction. We will find you.

Here´s your letter.

Fighting a bear at the bottom of a chasm? A fallen brother in arms left you some gold? Don´t worry, our couriers will reach you without delay. Behind you.

Here´s your letter.

You may be on the peak of the throat of the world, hidden form all but the monks, and a dragon to boot. No reason to not get the news.

Here´s your letter.

Just because your ship sunk doesn´t mean your social relations have to go down with it.

Here´s your letter.

Just because you have gone to sovngarde does not mean you can´t get a will delivered.

Send a letter with the courier service today,

and rest assured that your

correspondent

will

get

your

letter.

 _ **ANYWHERE.**_

 _ **AND BE IT THE SHIVERING ISLES.**_

oOoOo

A flyer you found on your pillow.

As you opened your eyes.

Good morning.

o0o0o0o

Authors Note

o0o0o0o

Yep my game glitched out and delivered a note of inheritance IN SOVENGARDE!

And the story with the bear was creepy. I realised that he was dead because the courier informed me. He arrived seconds after the battle.


	9. Chapter 9

Undying Devotion

He had been a Stormcloak for some time now. Before that he had already part his Jarls guard. When the same had claimed to be owed the throne, it had not even occurred to him to change allegiances. After all, one does not simply throw away three generations of good guard service for some political issue or another. That just wouldn´t do.

And as a good guard and better soldier he would never ponder the truth of his Sires words.

Not even if it seemed quite foolish.

To be infighting at such an unfitting time.

After all, there were bigger threats outside both Skyrim and the Empire, and it was not every day that myths and stories rose to roam the lands once more…

But no. He would do his duty. He would guard. Like he had always done, like his father, like his grand- What was that? Was that a quiet scream?

"I´ll check."

At a steady and carful pace, neither fast nor slow, he neared the door, his sword ready to strike. Whoever this intruder might be would learn why, despite all attempts, Ulfric still lived.

A slight brush of fabric where there should have been naught but air. Quickly he grabbed and, for a moment, felt a tunic he could not see, before it slipped from his grasp.

"He´s invisible!"

The call came to late. The unseen assassin had already struck with both a blade and a hand full of thundering flames, the rest of Ulfrics guard thrown through the air like a childs dolls as the hall echoed from the force of explosion.

After a moment gathering his wits, he rushed to slay the dazed fool who had slain his Sire, to avenge the one that he had failed. The man on the ground gave little resistance, obviously having underestimated the scrolls strength, of which he still held the smouldering remains.

The assassin taken care of, he slowly approached the collapsed end of the corridor. He knew Ulfric to be gone, he had taken a knife to the head only to take the brunt of that explosion. No, he was looking for his comrades, perhaps one or two lived yet.

There, movement! Behind, no, under that beam!

Quickly he hefted the deformed, blackened wood up, thanking the devines that most of the beam had broken off. And then he stared.

For kneeling under that beam, in a smoking dent in the floor, a dagger the length of a man's forearm embedded in his _skull_ , in a tunic that still _burned,_ was Jarl Ulfric, no, one could only call him HIGH KING ULFRIC, surrounded by golden mists slowly mending the burns as they appeared.

And as the guard stared and the fires subsided, the High King rose to pull the dagger from his eyes socket, all that was lost returned by the golden shine, even the cloth mending itself. There he stood, holding the weapon that had slain him, surrounded by the shine of the fire that had cremated him.

The guard could not believe his eyes. This man was truly chosen by the Nine. All had to hear. He would make sure that all heard of that which he had witnessed.

But first, he had a Jarl to help.

o0o0o0o

Authors Note

o0o0o0o

The Dragonborn is not the only one to be handed insane power by the mechanics of the game. Perhaps that's why all the faktionmembers are so ludicrously devoted to their commanders. After all, who would go against a man that can never die?


	10. Chapter 10

It´s a TRAP!

Ralf flinched as he heard the ominous thundering of falling rocks echo through the mine. He jumped to his feet in alarm, but relaxed slightly as he heard a scream of pain. Good. Whoever the intruder was, more than a man's weight in rocks should at least incapacitate him. As he peered into the dark tunnel he yelled out to the man to "SHOW YOURSELF!". Sure, he would no longer be in fighting condition, but even a downed man can take a dagger to your heel.

Of course, he had expected a pained whimper as a response, or a waving hand.

Instead, to his rising horror, the rubble shifted and began to roll again, as a man in what could only be described as makeshift armour rose, slightly annoyed and casually dusting off his leather gear. Behind him, Ralf could hear his reinforcement come to a dead shock, staring.

That was the last thing Ralf ever heard, as to the mortification of his friends the stranger darted forward, going from standstill to a full tilt sprint, and shoved a glass dagger into his head.

Before the last of them had even entered a proper fighting stance, silence fell.

o0o0o0o

Authors Note

o0o0o0o

Anybody else notice how we can just shrug off a crushing pile of rocks and go on to slaughter an enemy that outnumbers us ten to one with a comically unfitting weapon?


	11. Chapter 11

High Tier Multi-Tasking

There had been many stories about the Dragonborn. How he stood for all that was just, how he brought down the Brotherhood, how he even ripped Dragons from their undisputed domain and taught them to fear death.

She didn´t doubt that the Dragonborn _could_ or _would_ do any of those things.

What she doubted was that he _had_. There were simply not enough hours in the day.

How could he win a civil war, and yet be just in time to save the hostage? How could he _always_ arrive in the very last moment to slay the Dragon menace, even when attacks happened frequently and spread out enough that he would have to spend all day on the road, every day?

She still didn´t know the answer. She hadn´t seen anything to explain the mystery.

In fact, it had been troubling her for days.

She had been kidnapped by bandits.

They realised that they had gotten the wrong girl and moved to kill her.

The Dragonborn had appeared from nowhere to electrocute them all.

It had all been over in a few moments, 5 minutes, maybe ten.

So how was it, that when she returned to the city, a new Dragon skull adorned the walls?

o0o0o0o

Authors Note

o0o0o0o

Since we always seem to be there in time, despite taking two and a half months to goof off and hunt deer, it must seem very strange to those that follow the normal, non-narrative driven flow of time.

Also, it always bothered me that the cities never put up all those skeletons as the most bad-ass decoration ever.

Whiterun gets all the fame for ONE dragon skull, and here I am leaving a baker's dozen in Windhelm and nobody seems to care.


End file.
